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Posted Fri Apr 2nd, 2010 12:14am Post subject: How Things Feel

The stars are sad the city can't see them. The pencil trembles with anticipation as it is poised over the paper. Crumbles of mud tumble with giggles as they fall from bashed boots. The sun loves to shine on politicians. Lashes are fame for a snowflake. Lightbulbs unshaded are ashamed. Keys are tragic lovers. Curtains always part reluctantly. Unlit candles sullenly withstand. Beds are favourite uncles, pillows their patient friends. Forks writhe and sigh upon your lips. And all things, when ignored, pray to the space between them; for men do take the cups they lift for granted. So when you are held by distracted hands, follow their example, and then you'll too know, my love, that life loves you sometimes secretly.

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Posted Fri Apr 2nd, 2010 3:05am Post subject: How Things Feel

This is beautiful, with some exquisite phraseology.

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Posted Mon Apr 12th, 2010 6:07am Post subject: How Things Feel

I once caught this wee comment on the Steve Malkmus website, oh, years ago, at the time of year when daylight saving's time begins:
The clocks are forward, like a drunken uncle.

I like your rendition of the uncle motif too. What is it about those pesky critters?

And I too love the fork.
Keep it up; I'm reading.

I no longer believe that we can keep silent. We never really do, mind you. In one way or another, we articulate what has happened to us through the kind of people we become.
---Azar Nafisi

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